Title: "Gray Days" (1/1)
Author: Kristen999
Character(s): Sheppard with Team
Genre(s): Stargate Atlantis: H/C -Drama
Rating: K+
Words: 5,500
Summary: There are many dangers in the Pegasus Galaxy that have nothing to do with hostile aliens. After an accident, John finds out the hard way and the Team tries to help him in the aftermath.
This might be easier to read on my LJ site, the url is on my bio page, but this should be fine here.
Notes:A line in one of kriadydragon's fic inspired this bunny. I am not a scientist, please forgive any mistakes, but I did a fair bit of research for this.
Big thanks as always to Beth for her patience and care as a wonderful beta. You rock!
"Colonel, you need to raise your shields now!"
"I'm tryin', Rodney, but everything's gone haywire."
"No, you don't understand!...You have...God... you have sixty-seconds before the next wave!"
"What happened to the four minute window?"
"I told you that the power source was fluctuating!"
"Propulsion is barely on line—I'm losin' altitude."
"Forty seconds, Colonel!"
"I'm going to re-route power to the shields and hope----"
"Hope, what? Sheppard? SHEPPARD?"
"Got it! Shields at 60 and...oh, damn it---"
"You can't out run that wave. Just keep power to the shields a little bit longer—"
"They're dropping again."
"Twenty seconds!"
"Cutting off essential systems."
"Are you nuts?!"
"Not now, McKay!"
"Oh, sure ...crashing the jumper is the solution?"
"It's better than being fried."
"Five seconds...Colonel, I'm still reading shield strength at thirty percent; that's not high enough!"
"Wave will impact in three…two...one."
"Sheppard?...Colonel!"
"Switching flight controls back on."
"Sheppard? ...According to my readings you didn't get shields back up at full power before the wave."
"...I know, Rodney."
"Oh, God...I mean...it might...maybe it was enough."
"Can't worry about that now...bracing for impact. Navigation's on the fritz."
"Colonel?...Just hang on!...A rescue team is on the way."
Radiation Manual for Emergencies- Chapter One
Table of exposure levels and symptoms
One gray Gy equals 100 rads.
The sievert (symbol: Sv) is the SI derived unit of dose equivalent. It attempts to reflect the biological effects of radiation as opposed to the physical aspects, which are characterized by the absorbed dose, measured in grays
0.2–0.5 Sv (20–50 REM)- No noticeable symptoms.Red blood cell count decreases temporarily.
0.5–1 Sv (50–100 REM)-Mild radiation sickness with headache and increased risk of infection due to disruption of immunity cells.
1–2 Sv (100–200 REM) -Light radiation poisoning, 10 fatality after 30 days. Typical symptoms include mild to moderate nausea (50 probability at 2 Sv), with vomiting beginning 3 to 6 hours after irradiation. This is followed by a 10 to 14 day latent phase, after which light symptoms like general illness and fatigueappear (50 probability at 2 Sv). The immune system is depressed, with convalescence extended and increased risk of infection. Temporary male sterility is common.
2–3 Sv (200–300 REM) Moderate radiation poisoning, 35 fatality after 30 days. Nausea is common (100 at 3 Sv). Loss of hair all over the body (50 probability at 3 Sv), fatigue and general illness. There is a massive loss of leukocyteswhite blood cells), greatly increasing the risk of infection.
4–6 Sv (400–600 REM) Acute radiation poisoning, 60 fatality after 30 daysFatality increases from 60 at 4.5 Sv to 90 at 6 Sv (unless there is intense medical care). Symptoms start half an hour to two hours after irradiation and last for up to 2 days.
6–10 Sv (600–1,000 REM) Acute radiation poisoning, near 100 fatality after 14 days. Survival depends on intense medical care. Bone marrow is nearly or completely destroyed, so a bone marrowtransplant is required. Gastric and intestinal tissue are severely damaged. Recovery would take several years and probably would never be complete
10–50 Sv (1,000–5,000 REM) Acute radiation poisoning, 100 fatality after 7 days. After powerful fatigue and immediate nausea caused by direct activation of chemical receptors in the brain by the irradiation, there is a period of several days of comparative well-being, called the latent (or "walking ghost") phase. Death is currently inevitable; the only treatment that can be offered is pain therapy
Everyone jokes about his house calls, but they're more like the trauma runs of a space EMT. Carson's been through everything from deserts and icecaps to electrical storms and biological hazards.
Waiting is the worst kind of pain for a physician; knowing that a patient needs his help and he can't lift a bloody finger until the all clear. He hates these orange containment suits; they're cumbersome and heavy, making his job that much more difficult when quick reflexes are a must in an emergency.
Carson grips his medical bag, waiting impatiently for the results of the scariest measurement known to medical science. He knows how much poison the jumper had flown through. There'd been no need for Rodney's illustrations of the nightmarish Chernobyl-like possibilities or his rapidly muttered recitation of Three Mile Island stats.
Zelenka has vowed to keep the other scientist focused on the positive by calculating emitted vs. absorption effects and to what extent the jumper might have been protected. He'll know the answer in just a few minutes, long before anyone on Atlantis.
The scanner will tell.
It'll inform him if treatment will focus on acute or chronic. Sickness or poisoning.
Carson can't see Dr. Robert's expression behind the helmet's dome, past those coke bottle-bottom glasses. She holds the Rosetta Stone, eyes intent on a single piece of equipment while a pair of anxious Marines pry apart the doors to the jumper.
It's only been ninety seconds since they'd arrived, but Carson wants to know...needs to prepare for what lies in store.
Sergeants Stackhouse and Billings shout for his attention and shake him out of his thoughts. He searches in vain for a reaction from his fellow physician; for a sign before running up the ramp. They use silent scanners and not Geiger counters, there's no clicking to give him a hint, but he can't wait any longer, taking a deep breath before charging inside the ship to assess his patient.
Dr. Roberts nearly rips his shoulder off in her panic, grabbing it roughly and thrusting an instrument display in his face. He doesn't need to see the damned reading; her reaction is enough. He looks anyways.
9 Sv.
It makes his heart sink and his chest ache in a way that can't be comforted. He still races towards the pilot sprawled unconscious over the flight controls and concentrates only on vitals and prepping his friend for transport.
Radiation Manual for Emergencies- Chapter Two
Acute (short-term) vs. chronic (long-term) effects
Radiation sickness is generally associated with acute exposure and has a characteristic set of symptoms that appear in an orderly fashion. The symptoms of radiation sickness become more serious (and the chance of survival decreases) as the dosage of radiation increases. These effects are described as the deterministic effects of radiation.
Longer term exposure to radiation, at doses less than that which produces serious radiation sickness, can induce cancer as cell-cycle genes are mutated. If a cancer is radiation-induced, then the disease, the speed at which the condition advances, the prognosis, the degree of pain, and every other feature of the disease are not functions of the radiation dose to which the sufferer is exposed.
External Exposure
External exposure is exposure which occurs when the radioactive source (or other radiation source) is outside (and remains outside) the organism which is exposed. Below are a series of three examples of external exposure.
A person who places a sealed radioactive source in their pocket
A space traveler who is irradiated by cosmic rays
A person who is treated for cancer by either teletherapy or brachytherapy.
Elizabeth sits in a stiff plastic chair, the wall behind her head the only support she'll accept at this time. She's the lighthouse; the silent beacon of optimism, strong and visible. It's difficult to be the pillar of strength, but that's the job and there are too many people depending on her for guidance.
Rodney argues with Zelenka about the partially retrieved data from the jumper, masking his real fear with math and science.
"Zelenka, don't talk to me about distance and shield strength! I already told you that it looks like Sheppard got it back up to seventy percent for exactly four point three seconds. Gamma rays 'scatter' around protection barriers!"
"We have to take into consideration the photoelectric effect. Iodized photons can induce the emission of electrons---"
"I know that and I'm telling you you're not taking into---"
"Shut up!" Ronon roars, startling the two bickering men.
Teyla rises from her chair to console the frustrated Satedan, looking to Elizabeth for added support.
"Ronon," Teyla says in that soothing tone.
Two massive, restless hands curl into fists by the warrior's sides. "I'm tired of listening to their stupid fight!"
Elizabeth can sense the rebuke coming from the astrophysicist and head's it off. "Ronon's right, there's no--"
Rodney goes off anyway. "When a gamma ray passes through matter, the probability for absorption in a thin layer is proportional to the thickness of that layer. This leads to an exponential decrease of intensity with thickness--"
Ronon interrupts the tirade. "When can we go in?"
Rodney's pulls out his PDA, waving it in the runner's face. "Just because you can't comprehend what we're dealing with doesn't mean it's not important."
"Can it help Sheppard, now?" Ronon asks in challenge.
Rodney's shoulders slump and he looks away, walking towards the opposite corner, eyes searching for answers he doesn't have.
Zelenka follows closely behind, offering up hope. "Maybe you're right, Rodney." His voice trails off as he goes towards his friend.
Elizabeth doesn't listen, closing her eyes to the technobabble. The truth is, they won't know anything until Carson comes out with the news. They don't have nearly enough information, and are left swinging in the wind with preliminary numbers from the wave emission and nothing on the jumper's condition upon impact.
She tries to ignore images of John surrounded by machines, his only contact with rubber gloves and clicking meters that quantify his life with scales and cold-hard numbers. Elizabeth wraps her arms around herself, thinking morosely about the countless ways John could die: killed in action protecting Atlantis, saving his team, or protecting other innocent worlds.
Killed in an unforeseen accident?
She shakes her head in disbelief.
That would be so unfair.
Her heart pounds when Carson exits the sealed part of the infirmary with sweaty hair and exhausted eyes. She allows a glimmer of anticipation because she sees a wrinkled lab coat and not the outer layer of a containment suit.
The rest of the team surrounds the newest source of light and hope. The Scotsman grins tiredly. "He's going to be feeling sick for a while, but all our tests show he encountered a low level radioactive burst." He looks at the two scientists. "Right under 200 rems...the shields were up long enough to diminsh the exposure rate."
Zelenka is all smiles, patting Rodney's shoulder, the other physicist drooping in relief.
Teyla's eyes are bright and shiny with joy despite the fact she looks like she's in need of a chair before her legs give out.
Ronon's the ever practical one of the group. "So, he's not gonna die?"
Carson laughs and it makes him seem younger. "No, he's going to be just fine after a period of rest and recovery."
"I guess he won't be glowing in the dark anytime soon," Rodney jokes.
It fills Elizabeth with warmth to hear such humor, even at John's expense. "When can we see him?"
Carson sighs. "Let me go over his chart with all of you so I can explain the procedures we're all going to have to follow."
Radiation Manual for Emergencies- Chapter Three
Initial Treatment and Diagnostic Evaluation
Treat vomiting, and repeat CBC analysis, with special attention to the lymphocyte count, every 2 to 3 hours for the first 8 to 12 hours following exposure (and every 4 to 6 hours for the following 2 or 3 days). Sequential changes in absolute lymphocyte counts over time aredemonstrated below in the Andrews Lymphocyte Nomogram (see Figure 1). Precisely record all clinical symptoms, particularly nausea, vomiting, diarrhea, and itching, reddening or blistering of the skin. Be sure to include time of onset.
--After consultation, begin the following (as indicated):
--supportive care in a clean environment (if available, the use of a burn unit may be quite effective)
prevention and treatment of infections
--stimulation of hematopoiesis by use of growth factors
--stem cell transfusions or platelet transfusions (if platelet count is too low)
--psychological support
--careful observation for erythema (document locations), hair loss, skin injury, mucositis, parotitis, weight loss, or fever
--confirmation of initial dose estimate using chromosome aberration cytogenetic bioassay when possible. Although resource intensive, this is the best method of dose assessment following acute exposures.
--consultation with experts in radiation accident management
Ronon destroys two sets of latex gloves before figuring out how to don them without long fingers tearing through the flimsy protection. The rubbery feel is annoying and he despises wearing a surgical mask over his mouth and nose. It's a precaution, something about Sheppard's cells being damaged and the danger of him becoming ill if exposed to germs.
He wonders how much sicker Sheppard can get since he pukes his guts out almost every hour. Ronon holds the pilot up by the shoulders, carefully avoiding two IV lines and various other wires and tubes connecting to the monitors surrounding them. A nurse rushes in the room to take away the bowl, assuring the colonel that Beckett will be in shortly.
Ronon eases his friend back down on the bed, the pilot's muscles trembling under his hands.
"Maybe you should go," Sheppard rasps.
"No."
The colonel closes his eyes and Ronon grabs the only chair and inches it closer to the railing in order to grab his friend more quickly next time. There's no need to mess up another hospital gown and cause Sheppard more pain by having to change again. His team leader is embarrassed by his fragility in front of him, but there's no way he'll leave the colonel alone in this state.
One of them will be near him at all times since this whole isolation thing makes him feel uneasy if something should go wrong. He doesn't understand why Sheppard is too ill to be around other people. He'd asked Beckett that question, but the Doc's technical answer didn't satisfy him.
McKay's, "White cells are good. Fight germs. Colonel Heroic lost a billion. That's bad," had told him enough.
Ronon had seen space sickness before; it always ended in terrible death and he'd rather face a dozen Wraith or be alone with his own gun before being subjected to such a pointless end.
Sheppard doesn't talk much; he lies quietly in bed to keep from throwing up. He has a concussion from smacking his forehead on the dash of the jumper; the line of tiny stitches is a dark black over his porcelain skin.
"What's the boy in the bubble?" Ronon asks, breaking the silence.
"You hear that from McKay?"
"Yeah."
Sheppard gets about half-way done explaining the story when his face pales. Ronon's there with a clean bowl, supporting him by the shoulders again as the colonel retches. Sheppard hacks up more liquid, sagging when the last of his strength gives out. Ronon lays him back down before storming towards the sealed door to yell for the Doc.
Beckett's there in a flash, injecting more meds, messing with all the noisy machines.
"I thought you said he's going to be fine?" Ronon accuses.
"Aye, he will, but it's goin' to take some time, lad."
"He can't move out of bed."
"He's weak as a wee lamb and will be for many days. I'm trying different medications to help with his nausea."
Ronon can't take out his frustration; this isn't an enemy he can beat senseless in retribution.
Beckett pats his shoulder. "It's tough, I know. There's no cure we can give him; we can only treat his symptoms."
The gown over his clothes is tolerable, but the mask is suffocating and Ronon longs to rip it away from his face. "You should give him something more."
"He's already on pain medication, but this is simply an area we can do little about."
Suffering is a private thing, but a friend should stand by no matter what. If Teyla were here she would hold the colonel's hand. McKay's talking would make Sheppard fall asleep. In the past, holding vigil at a comrade's side had been considered a waste of resources. Melina had tried to show him the usefulness in just 'being there.'
"Can I... can I have a pad and pencil?"
The physician blinks and looks back in surprise. "Sure you can," he says, returning a few minutes later with the requested items.
Ronon accepts them without a word, pulling out the chair once more.
"Back again?"
"Yep."
"You... should find something better to do."
Sheppard looks like he wants to curl up in a ball, but he can't because of a banged-up knee propped up by pillows.
Ronon fights the instinct that tells him to respect his CO's desire to hurt all alone, and instead pulls out the paper and sketches for a while. He draws sharp angles, uses the edge of the graphite for softer shades, erasing and starting over often.
He flips page after page in between vitals checks, administration of medications and the fussing of a nurse who lingers a little longer than needed.
Sheppard shifts, moving himself sideways. His eyes are clearer as they peer over the railing. "What are you drawing?"
Ronon glances down at his work, chewing on his lip before commenting. "A design for a new tattoo."
"Really?"
"Been wanting to add another one." Ronon points to the one along his neck. "This was my rank on Sateda. It's time for something new."
Sheppard admires his scribbles, lifting a shaky finger to trace over the patterns. "What do they mean?"
Ronon points to the squiggly circle rotating to the left. "This represents the past." He moves his gloved finger over three dots connected by opposite zig-zags with a line dissecting the sign in the middle. "This stands for my home world."
"And this one?" Sheppard asks, indicating a backwards ampersand with tiny parallel lines over it.
"It's Satedan for Atlantis and this…" He follows the similar circular pattern rotating to the right. "Stands for the future." He then points to three sets of lettering. "These mean loyalty, life and freedom." All four pieces merge and reemerge out of shades and highlights like a singular line of writing and symbols.
Sheppard runs his finger, outlining the tat. "That's a fairly permanent commitment."
Ronon admires the design, eyes drifting beyond the drawing. "I know."
High School Physics- Chapter Eight
Nuclear Technologies History Part 1 -Splitting the Atom
During the 1930's, another women, Lise Meitner, would contribute new insights into what would happen when an atom was actually split into two. Meitner wondered whether in some atoms like uranium the forces that hold the nucleus together might be more feebly balanced. If a 'slow' neutron enters the nucleus, it might cause the nucleus to elongate and vibrate causing the particles within to be pulled far enough that it might split. Meitner named this process Nuclear Fission. She realized that their must be energy released when fission occurs and used Einstein's equation, EMC2 (energy equals mass times the speed of light squared) to get the answer. The result produced 200MeV(million electron volts), just the amount of energy that could force the two fragments of the nucleus apart.
After discussing this new discovery with other scientists they found a new exciting possibility where the fission reaction could cause new neutrons from the split nucleus to fly out and further splitting other atoms resulting in a chain reaction and if controlled could be an efficient new power source - but if not controlled could result in a huge explosion. What made this frightening was the fact that World War II was only about a year away.
Teyla finds it easier to deal with John if she uses fewer words and simply does things before he has the time to protest. She earns a few glares and a lot of sighing but eventually the colonel accepts the fact that this is the way things will be and the path becomes much easier for them both. He props himself higher in bed while she lays the napkin over his chest, leaving him to deal with the broth on his own terms.
"What's in it?" he asks, the spoon quivering in his hand.
"Herbs that will soothe your stomach and help you heal," Teyla explains, grabbing a candle from the stash she'd brought in.
The first sips are tentative; a few more afterwards are relished with more vigor, and the last bit doesn't make it to his mouth because his hands shake too badly. Once again she doesn't say a word, grabbing the soup and soiled napkin after he's done.
"That was good, thanks."
"You're welcome."
Teyla places candles in a ring around the room and lights them with the end of one of the sticks. John watches her from bed in amusement. "You're in a good mood," Teyla comments.
"Lost the IV," the colonel replies, holding out his battered arm.
She smiles, knowing how much of a relief that is for him. The needle sticks had bled more because of anemia and the dark bruising covering the inside of his arms is an ugly reminder.
"I'm glad Carson agreed to let you rest in your own quarters; this is a great step."
This is the most diplomatic way of phrasing her statement. It had been a battle of wills and compromises. In the end, John had won this small victory by conceding to constant supervision.
The colonel can't play any of his computer games or work because the motion of reading words aggravates the nausea that continues to plague him. The small pharmacy of drugs in his system and general illness result in him sleeping most hours of the day. John drifts off a few minutes later and she checks her watch to determine when to wake him up to take his pills.
Three hours go by while Teyla studies some of the books Elizabeth has helped translate into Athosian with the aid of one of the Ancient database's language programs. She reads science text books to help educate herself for possible use in future missions; the one on atomic energy is both frightening and amazing.
The colonel wakes up a little fuzzy headed but his need is understood and Teyla stands up, aiding him out of the tangled sheet and covers. John sways slightly at being up right; sucking in long, steadying breaths.
"I'm okay," he says, trying to brush her off and obviously feeling awkward clad only in boxers and a T-shirt.
She'll have none of it, helping him to the bathroom but standing outside to give him privacy. When he's done, his fatigue robs his muscles of any energy and Teyla grabs him around the waist to lead him back to bed.
She grabs one of medication bottles, verifying Carson's care sheet instructions. "I think it's time for one of the blue ones."
John's body has withstood bullet holes, knife wounds and fists that have left him bruised and bloodied. No physical object has done this to her friend, no weapon or machine, but something so tiny that billions of them together are still naked to the eye.
Teyla wonders if the Wraith hadn't culled her world time after time, would her people also have advanced enough to split the most basic building blocks of life?
Her thoughts are interrupted when John knocks down the soup tray in search of the emesis dish that sits on the corner. She rushes over, shoving it into his hands as he throws up the broth, groaning and slumping back down in the bed after he's done. Teyla wipes his mouth with a wet washcloth, dabbing at his cheeks and brow before placing the moist terrycloth under his neck.
She returns from cleaning out the dish and he looks at her dejectedly, turning only his head to keep the rest of his body still. "Could you turn on some music?"
"I'm going to have to tell Carson."
"I know."
Teyla grabs her com to let the doctor know about the return of John's nausea, knowing that this might mean the return of the IV. After she's finished, Teyla pulls up the music folder on his computer and clicks on one of the jazz playlists.
She sits back down, grabbing John's hand, rubbing circles over his knuckles as the sounds of steel guitar strum from the speakers. "I think it's time to ice your knee."
The colonel has learned to accept help even if it makes him feel uncomfortable, though he still plays the game of changing the subject.
"Why does my room smell like a perfume shop?"
"The candles are supposed to release healing properties into the air."
"Well...maybe you could light some more then?"
She squeezes his hand before leaving to get the ice in his mini-fridge. "I'll see what I can do."
High School Physics- Chapter Eight
Nuclear Technologies History Part 2 - Splitting the Atom
Fermi knew that when an atom splits it releases other neutrons, and he was quick to realize that under the right conditions those neutrons could go on to split other atoms in a chain reaction. This would lead to one of two things: a steady generation of energy in the form of heat or a huge explosion. If each splitting atom caused one released neutron to split another atom, the chain reaction was said to be "critical" and would create a steady release of heat energy. But if each fission event released two, three, or more neutrons that went on to split other atoms, the chain reaction was deemed "supercritical" and would rapidly cascade into an almost instantaneous, massive, explosive release of energy—a bomb. In the climate of the times, with the world on the brink of war, there was little doubt in which direction the main research effort would turn.
The Manhattan Project, headed by General Leslie Groves of the Army Corps of Engineers, included experimental facilities and manufacturing plants in several states, from Tennessee to Washington. Dozens of top-ranking physicists and engineers took part. One of the most significant breakthroughs was achieved by Fermi himself, who in 1942 created the first controlled, self-sustaining nuclear chain reaction in a squash court beneath the stands of the University of Chicago stadium. To do it, he had built the world's first nuclear reactor, an achievement that would ultimately lead to the technology that now supplies a significant proportion of the world's energy. But it was also the first practical step toward creating a bomb.
Rodney has done his share of colonel watching over the past week, but this is the first time he's seen him outside the four walls of a room. Sheppard had thought it would be a good idea if the military commander of Atlantis was seen up and on his feet, even if they were dragging right now. They walk outside, Rodney slowing his pace for the colonel to catch up.
"Maybe we could take a break," he suggests, making it sound like he's the one in need of a rest.
"Sure," Sheppard says breathlessly, using the wall to ease himself down.
Rodney grabs some floor, admiring the view of the ocean. "When do you get out of Carson's clutches?"
"He said it'd be a week or two before I can return to light duty."
Sheppard's lost weight; his BDUs hang looser, his t-shirt is a little baggier around his lean frame. It's nothing a few extra puddings, slices of bread with gobs of butter and second helpings in the mess hall couldn't cure, but it makes him feel even guiltier.
"You're looking better," he says lamely.
The colonel gets that uneasy expression. "I'll be fine, Rodney. Didn't even lose any of my hair."
The joke was supposed to alleviate tension, but it makes Rodney bristle. "You almost became another Louis Slotin!"
Sheppard doesn't hide his look of confusion, prompting a longer explanation. "He was a Canadian scientist who died during the Manhattan Project...exposed himself to 2100 rems of neutron and gamma radiation because of sloppy procedures. His organs basically liquefied before his agonizing death."
"It wasn't my fault, McKay... it was an accident."
"No, but it was mine!"
"Oh, you control the laws of physics now?"
"I didn't calculate the radiation wave's rate of emission correctly."
Sheppard rolls his eyes. "Let me know when you can predict the weather if you think you've found a way to accurately guess fusion behavior."
"I thought you had more time...if the jumper had impacted the pulse just one second earlier--"
"Should've, could've, would've...don't twist yourself up needlessly over this."
"I can't afford to make such mistakes, Colonel."
"You're human, McKay...deal with it."
"But---"
"Do you know how many times I've flown ass-close to some star or been a hair's breadth away from a nuclear explosion?"
Rodney shudders over too many memories. "Yeah... your cocky, gung ho-Icarus thing has been annoying."
"I don't have an Icarus thing."
"Whatever."
"And for the record, that guy saved his fellow scientists. It was a dumb accident and has nothing to do with what happened. You're comparing apples and oranges again."
Rodney shouldn't be caught off guard by the colonel's knowledge of Slotin and his fate. "Well, I guess if any women throw themselves at you, they don't have to fear rearing any little Sheppards."
The pilot scowls. "Carson said I was fine in that department."
"I'm just saying, only one of us has to worry if his gun will fire blanks."
"McKay."
"Come on, let's get back before you catch a cold or something," Rodney says, rising to his feet.
"I'm not that tired," Sheppard grouches, even if getting up off the floor seems to take too much effort.
Rodney grabs an elbow while the colonel blames his bum knee on being slow. He doesn't believe it, knowing it's only been a few days since the colonel has been able to keep solid food down and crawl out of bed.
"I've got that new City of Heroes expansion on the lap top; they've added some new missions and I'll even let you play my Batman guy," he offers.
"I still have my Wolverine character, but why didn't you grab the new Halo?"
"Because I like to think a little when I play a game. Don't we get enough aliens and super soldiers in real life?"
"We don't have all those cool guns."
By the time they reach Sheppard's quarters and Rodney networks their computers together, the pilot has fallen asleep on his bed. There's no reason to stay with the colonel; the need for twenty-four hour observation is over, but that doesn't stop Rodney from untying the laces of the colonel's boots and pulling them off.
He sighs to himself and looks around the sparse room, eyes staring at the various melted candles carefully placed around. One of Ronon's wilding tools lays on the desk with an unfinished wooden model of a 302. Rodney shakes his head, grabbing Power Bar wrappers off the floor near his notebook that holds a new wormhole theory he'd been working on.
"We're all very lucky," he says under his breath, dimming the lights before finding the others to grab lunch and bring it back.
"Colonel Sheppard, we have an odd energy spike three-point five kilometers east of your heading."
"Got it on the grid, Chuck...analyzing now."
"I'll page Dr. McKay."
"Negative. There's no need to drag him out of bed; this looks pretty harmless."
"Yes, sir. Are you sure, sir?...I can have him down here in---"
"Waiting on the data now; adjusting my bearing just in case."
"It's a large dispersal. ETA on your current flight path is two minutes."
"Roger that."
"Zelenka is in a meeting with Dr. Weir, Colonel. I could---"
"Relax, Chuck. No need to ---hold on, got an alarm."
"I'm reading an ionization energy field!"
"Hang on...not again...what IS it with this sector?"
"Colonel Sheppard, it looks like the spike is dying down…I repeat it's dying down. The charged particles are reaching zero."
"Copy that, Chuck...shields are still at a 100 percent power."
"Sorry, sir...looks like MPX-267 is filled with particle waves...false alarm...just, um, being cautious."
"No problem. My first mission back on flight duty just has to be interesting...let's say we put this in the report as a footnote. No need to add to my reputation."
"Don't think that could get any bigger."
"What was that?"
"Oh...um, nothing, sir. You're cleared for another survey around the eastern hemisphere."
"Roger that. Just another walk in the park."